


In the Stacks

by ClaraxBarton



Series: 31 Days of Smut [7]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: 31 Days of Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:33:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6184373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/pseuds/ClaraxBarton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He reached out for a book, not even looking at the title, but his fingers were intercepted by Wufei.</p><p> </p><p>For Duamei and Maevemauvaise</p><p>Day 7 of 31 Days of Smut</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Stacks

A/N: I’ve had a few requests for some more fail sex (especially from Duaimei) and college trope things so I combined them here. Also, blame this on Maeve who wanted to see these two dorks meet in a library.  
A/N 2: I live for reviews. Even if it’s just “loved it” - every review makes my day and inspires me to write more.  
A/N 3: A special and enormous thanks to Maevemauvaise who, in addition to exchanging all caps frantic typing with me is taking on the dubious honor of beta reading for me. THANK you so much.

Warnings: Smut, language, fluff, AU  
Pairings: 3x5, background 1x2

March 7: In the Stacks

Why again am I supposed to care about the Anabaptists and the German Peasant Wars?  
It was late, and Trowa felt like he had been reading the same page for the last half-hour.  
He took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes before stretching and sighing.  
History was, objectively, fine. Interesting even. And sure, a group of German peasants decided to wage all out war to establish an equal society with communal sharing of property was even radical and, if Trowa wasn’t functioning on less than two hours of sleep, cool.  
But as it was - Trowa was only functioning on two hours of sleep. And the book in front of him had been written nearly one hundred and fifty years ago and it felt like the author had sent himself a personal challenge to make the events as dull as possible. And he had succeeded.  
Trowa glared down at the book and then looked at the stack of seven other books beside it, all just as old, all probably just as dull.  
“Oh my God, what the fuck was I even thinking taking this class?”  
Across the table from him, Duo, his roommate, threw down his pencil in disgust and sneered at the open sketchbook in front of him.  
Trowa, knowing he really should get back to reading but also knowing that he might actually try to set the book on fire just to make it a more interesting read, picked up the sketchbook and turned it to face him.  
“Don’t -” Duo tried to grab it back but Trowa leaned away from the table, balancing his chair on two legs and holding the sketchbook out of Duo’s reach.  
“Shh, we’re in a library,” Trowa reprimanded Duo with a smirk as he flipped through the last few pages in the book.  
Duo settled back into his chair and crossed his arms while he glared at Trowa sullenly.  
Trowa had agreed, after three days of Duo begging and offering bribes - the final offer had been for Duo to take full responsibility for cleaning the bathroom for the rest of the semester and Trowa had accepted without hesitation - to let Duo sketch him for his drawing class. Of course, their schedules were at such odds that the only time they both had available was late at night, during the handful of hours between dinner ending and the main campus library closing, so tonight Duo had reluctantly joined Trowa in the library and tried to sketch him while he read.  
To Trowa’s completely untrained eye the sketches weren’t bad - in fact he thought they were very good. The pages and pages looked just like him - until the second to last page, when it was clear Duo had gotten distracted.  
“This doesn’t even look like me,” Trowa held up the sketch.  
Duo flushed and scratched at the tip of his nose.  
“Yeah, well, what can I say? I suck.”  
“No, I’m not saying it’s bad I’m saying it looks like someone else.”  
Duo remained silent but Trowa followed his gaze.  
This late at night the library was fairly empty, with only a dozen or so students spread out and working in the study area that, earlier in the day, easily accommodated three times that number.  
Four tables over two guys sat, one with short, dark hair and a scowl on his face, the other, his shoulder length black hair pulled back into a tight ponytail at the base of his neck, wire rimmed glasses perched on a slim nose, was actually smiling faintly as he read whatever monster of a text he had spread in front of him.  
Trowa found himself transfixed. He was beautiful. Every line of his face, the color of his skin and eyes and hair and - and the single tendril of hair that had someone escaped and brushed over his cheek.  
“Stop staring, Tro,” Duo hissed.  
Trowa flushed and looked away.  
“We can’t both look like stalkers,” Duo added and grabbed the sketchbook back.  
Only then, as he was jolted fully back to reality, did Trowa realize that Duo had been sketching the other student at the table.  
“Do you know them?” He asked Duo.  
Duo snorted.  
“No. You think I’d just be over here sighing in lustful yearning if I knew him?”  
Trowa arched an eyebrow.  
“We’re doing the early Romantic poets in lit, back off,” Duo said defensively.  
Trowa had to smirk at that but then he sighed himself and looked back down at the open book in front of him.  
He tried reading it again and found himself reading the exact same line five times before he slapped the book closed in disgust.  
Duo looked over at him, one corner of his mouth crooked up in amusement.  
Trowa ignored him and looked back over at the other table, trying to be casual, hoping not to be caught staring.  
Shit.  
The beautiful boy was gone and instead, Trowa found himself looking into the tired, irritated eyes of the one Duo had been drawing. Trowa hurriedly looked away.  
“I’m returning this,” Trowa announced and stood up.  
Duo frowned.  
“Yeah, but can you wait I just need to finish -”  
“I’ll be right back,” Trowa assured him.  
Duo gave a long suffering sigh and waved him off, not bothering to look up from his sketchbook.  
Trowa picked up the rejected book and two others that he had already given up on.  
He walked back through the stacks, flipping through one of the books to make sure he didn’t want to hang onto it just in case and -  
Ran right into someone.  
He cracked his forehead against something hard - probably the other person’s forehead or skull judging by the feel of it - and Trowa lost his balance and fell, dropping the books on the floor in the process and losing his glasses.  
“I’m sorry,” he said at the same time the other person did.  
Trowa looked up and he squinted, wishing he had better vision. The person - the boy - in front of him had dark hair and eyes, his skin a golden tan and Trowa found himself flushing. Was it?  
Trowa reached out for his glasses and picked them up.  
Definitely not his glasses. Instead of the world coming into focus, it was even worse and Trowa quickly pulled them off as he winced and shook his head.  
“These must be yours,” he said and held them out.  
“And I think I took yours,” the other boy said.  
Trowa found himself smiling at that as he accepted his glasses and put them on.  
Better. So much better. He now found himself face to face, less than a foot separating him, from the beautiful boy he had been staring at earlier.  
They stared at each other in silence and Trowa realized, only after what had to have been several uncomfortable moments for the other boy, that his own lips had parted and his heart was pounding unsteadily.  
“Sorry,” he mumbled and reached for his fallen books.  
“No, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” the boy said and did the same.  
“I wasn’t either,” Trowa confessed and looked up at the boy through his bangs as he reached for the last book.  
Trowa had never been so strongly attracted to someone else, had never been so mesmerized by someone.  
He found himself staring, yet again, and he ducked his head to avoid getting caught. He watched the boy stand and slowly followed suit.  
“Sorry again,” he said.  
“Me too.”  
The boy walked past him and Trowa allowed himself a three second glance over at his shoulder at him as he walked away.  
He felt like a horny kid, admiring the way the guy’s jeans clung to his ass, and Trowa turned away with a blush.  
He returned the books to their proper shelves and checked his watch. The library would be closing in ten minutes - he might as well go back and gather up his books.  
Trowa walked back to the study table and saw that Duo had abandoned it, leaving behind his sketchbook. He was about to shove it into his own backpack when he heard the sound of Duo’s voice.  
He looked up and saw Duo at the other table, standing there, chatting up the two guys.  
Both wore looks of disinterest, especially the beautiful black haired one. Trowa wasn’t surprised when Duo shook his head, offered a weak wave, and walked back over to their table.  
“No luck?” he asked, not even trying to sound sympathetic.  
Duo snorted and held out his hand to show ten numbers scrawled across it.  
“Much luck,” Duo corrected. “A whole hell of a lot of luck, in fact.” He took his sketchbook from Trowa’s hands. “That’s what happens when you’re aren’t shy, you know,” Duo continued to speak as they headed down the stairs so that Trowa could check out his books. “Put yourself out there - and bam. Hot date with none other than Heero Yuy.”  
Trowa grabbed Duo’s hand as he gestured wildly, triumphant in his success. He looked at the number again and smirked.  
Duo pulled his hand free.  
“What?” He demanded. “What’s so funny?”  
“He gave you a fake number.”  
“What - no he - oh my fuck. He did.”  
Duo stared at his hand, at the three numbers after the area code - 555. Duo’s shoulders slumped and his lips compressed.  
Trowa actually felt bad for him, but at the same time, he couldn’t resist the chance to rib Duo a little.  
“You know, when you’re shy and don’t put yourself out there, hot guys don’t give you fake phone numbers.”  
Duo scowled and shoved his hands into his pockets.  
“It wasn’t him anyway, it was his roommate - Wufei. Fucker.”  
Wufei.  
Trowa said the name in his head and then formed his lips around it, saying it silently. Wufei.

 

-o-

The following Friday night Trowa was once again in the library, once again practically cruising on autopilot as he looked for sources for his paper.  
Since it was a Friday and the Friday before midterms, no less, the library was very nearly abandoned. When Trowa dropped his bag off at his usual table there was no one else in sight.  
He made the trek through the stacks back to the section on German history and started to mentally catalog when information he still needed for his paper.  
When he rounded the corner he saw the star of his fantasies since last week standing in front of him.  
“Wufei.”  
The boy turned at the sound of his name and frowned at Trowa.  
Trowa, who hadn’t meant to say anything, found himself turning bright red, embarrassed to have spoken and then further embarrassed by the heat he could feel on his cheeks.  
“We met last week,” Trowa mumbled.  
“I remember.”  
He couldn’t decide if Wufei sounded amused or irritated.  
Trowa ducked his head, hoping his hair covered his flaming cheeks. He walked over to the nearest shelf and stared at it, hoping a hole would open beneath his feet and swallow him.  
He reached out for a book, not even looking at the title, but his fingers were intercepted by Wufei.  
Trowa turned his head and stared at him.  
“Don’t I get to know your name?” Wufei asked, arching an eyebrow behind his glasses.  
Trowa could only stare. This close, he could see a very faint trail of freckles across the bridge of Wufei’s nose.  
Freckles were adorable. They were cute and they belonged on little girls who wanted ponies - so why did Trowa find his heart beating faster as he counted them?  
Wufei cleared his throat.  
“What?”  
The boy’s lips tilted.  
“Your name?”  
“Trowa. I’m Trowa Barton.”  
“Wufei Chang.”  
Trowa realized their hands were still joined, realized that Wufei’s thumb was rubbing circles on the back of his hand. His breath caught and he looked down at their hands, at the contrast in their skin and his heart was beating so loudly he was sure Wufei could hear it.  
“Hi,” he said and it felt lame, felt useless and he wished he could take it back immediately.  
“Hi,” Wufei repeated and Trowa could hear the amusement in his voice.  
Wufei thumb moved to Trowa’s wrist, smoothing over his skin and then scratching lightly at the underside.  
Trowa looked up at him and saw that Wufei was looking directly into his eyes, saw a challenge and a promise and he suddenly felt very trapped.  
Wufei backed him up against the stacks and Trowa looked down at him.  
“Am I making you uncomfortable?”  
“Yes,” Trowa answered honestly.  
Wufei smirked.  
“Good.”  
Trowa had to arch an eyebrow at that, at Wufei’s satisfaction and, as if in response, Wufei moved their joined hands to his crotch and pressed them against his denim covered cock. His unmistakably hard cock.  
Trowa’s mouth went completely dry.  
“Because you’ve made me uncomfortable all week.”  
“What?” Trowa asked in disbelief. He wondered if he was allowed to move - wondered what Wufei would do if he curled his fingers against the hardness against his palm.  
He experimentally curved his fingers and Wufei made a noise - something between a growl and a groan.  
Trowa felt his own cock twitch, felt a rush of blood to his groin and while part of him couldn’t believe this was happening, part of him - the part that had been busily dreaming of what Wufei looked like naked while Trowa masturbated in the shower in the mornings - was wondering just what would happen next.  
Wufei pulled his hand free from Trowa’s and when Trowa frowned he curved it back around his cock and squeezed, clearly indicating what he wanted Trowa to do.  
Wufei, meanwhile, moved both his hands to Trowa’s waist. His fingers pushed the hem of Trowa’s shirt up and dipped under the waistband of his jeans.  
Trowa sucked in a breath as he felt a jolt of electricity at the touch.  
Wufei’s dark eyes stayed focused on his, holding him steady, refusing to release him.  
Trowa felt Wufei unfasten the fly of his jeans, felt his slightly cold fingers push between his skin and his boxers, felt them tangle in his pubic hair and then felt them wrap around his cock.  
It was only then, as Wufei’s cool, firm grip encircled him, that Trowa even thought to look around - to wonder if someone could see them.  
This deep in the stacks there was little chance of someone just walking by, especially on a Friday night, but even so…  
Wufei ran his nails over the underside of Trowa’s cock and Trowa shuddered.  
He saw the other man smirk and he tried to retaliate, tried to make Wufei experience the same mind-numbingly erotic feeling but it was difficult to do over the fabric of Wufei’s jeans. He fumbled with the fly, his fingers feeling thick and clumsy, his entire body’s focus on his cock, on the way Wufei was smoothing the skin up and down, the way his thumb ran the entire length of his cock and then down to his balls.  
“I -”  
He had no idea what he was trying to say, what he would have said. It was completely forgotten when Wufei knelt down in front of him, eyes still locked with Trowa’s, and tugged his jeans and boxers down far enough for Trowa’s cock to spring over the top.  
Wufei’s smirk grew and he leaned close and ran his tongue around the head of Trowa’s cock.  
Trowa gripped the shelf behind him.  
Holy fuck.  
He was, admittedly and ashamedly, lacking in sexual experience - his only partners to date being his right and left hands. But that had felt amazing. And now, the cool of air of the library stung the wet skin left in the wake of Wufei’s tongue and it sent a shiver down Trowa’s spine, sent a surge of lust and adrenaline to his brain and went Wufei opened his lips Trowa groaned and he tried to hold himself still, his heart hammering in anticipation.  
And then Wufei’s mouth, hot and tight and holy fuck it was so wet closed around Trowa’s cock and -  
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Trowa pushed Wufei away, clumsily shoving his thumb into Wufei’s eye in the process, just as he came.  
Wufei, one hand over his eye, didn’t even see, didn’t even have the chance to avoid the semen flying his way.  
Trowa’s horror completely overshadowed his orgasm as his cum landed in Wufei’s hair, on his nose, his glasses.  
Trowa squeezed his eyes closed so tightly his eyelids hurt.  
Please let this be a nightmare. Please, please, please.  
But when he hesitantly opened his eyebrows he found himself looking at Wufei’s scowling face, looking at the stained glasses, hair and nose and fuck. It was not a nightmare.  
“I am so sorry.”  
Trowa knelt down beside Wufei and reached out towards him but Wufei shied away.  
That hurt, but Trowa couldn’t really blame him.  
He watched the other boy slowly move his hand from his eye and blink experimentally.  
“Are you okay?” Trowa asked.  
Wufei nodded.  
“I didn’t - I didn’t want to come in your mouth if you didn’t -”  
“While I appreciate the thought, I wouldn’t have mind. Especially not if this is the alternative.”  
Trowa looked away, his face burning.  
How fucking embarrassing.  
“Maybe next time - you’ll try to relax a little and you might last longer and then we can both enjoy it?”  
Trowa wasn’t sure he was hearing Wufei correctly. He looked back at him and saw that Wufei’s scowl had turned into a faint smirk.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Well I don’t think you can last shorter than you just did so I think there’s a good chance you’d last longer.”  
Trowa felt himself flush again but he nodded. It really didn’t seem possible for him to get off any quicker than he just had.  
Wufei stood up and held out his hand.  
Trowa looked up at him.  
“Come on. Let’s find a bathroom and you can help me clean up this mess,” Wufei quirked an eyebrow, “and maybe return the favor.”  
“Will that include you trying to gouge my eye out?”  
“I suppose that all depends,” Wufei’s smirk grew.

 

-o-

Endnote: Hey! If you’re enjoying the 31 Days of Smut, or just my writing in general, check out the ebook I published on Amazon it’s cheap (or free if you have Kindle Unlimited) and super smutty. It’s Ponyboy by C. Barton.


End file.
